Eye of the Storm
by Leda71
Summary: In this AU, the end of the world is brought about by relentless storms instead of a zombie assault. Carol and Daryl find each other and try to figure out how to survive and how to love in spite of their troubled pasts. Rated M for language/future sexual content. Caryl story, told in alternating POVs by Daryl and Carol but including some other TWD characters. Please read/review!
1. Chapter 1: Daryl

At first the storms seemed normal. Hurricane season on the East coast always meant big storms, and lots of them. Weathermen got excited, old people got scared, and everybody soaked up on bottled water, batteries, and gas for their generators. But this year everyone understood that things were changing. Instead of waiting for a handful of storms and then breathing a sigh of relief when the season changed, the forecast showed that there would be no relief. In Georgia, hurricanes and tropical storms were set to pound the coast, presumably until nothing was left. The rest of the state would feel the effects, and the rest of the country would have their own hurricanes, tornadoes, and even earthquakes, if the scientists were right.

Daryl couldn't say he was all that worried. He was used to one storm or another in his life, but usually it was a rage-filled shitstorm from his brother Merle or the alcohol-induced fits his dad had thrown when he was a kid, usually ending in more than one bruise for Daryl. After being on the receiving end of those kinds of storms, a little wind wasn't shit.

"Ain't no storm gonna take me down, baby brother," Merle had said when people first started talking about the extreme weather. "I see this as the chance of a lifetime."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Daryl had asked, half hoping he wouldn't bother to answer. Merle always had one scheme or another that he wanted to drag Daryl into.

"All these assholes around here gonna get scared and hightail it outa here, leave all their shit behind," Merle said. "We'll be here to scoop it all up."

"What, break into their abandoned houses?"

"Why the fuck not? If they stupid enough to leave their shit, we're smart enough to take it," Merle said, laughing, as Daryl turned away and rolled his eyes.

Daryl had had another idea. He knew several of the local neighborhoods were pooling resources to build underground shelters as quickly as they could, and he wanted to get hired on one of the crews. It had always been like this: Merle cooking up some scheme and getting Daryl involved, when all Daryl wanted to do was make an honest living. He had such a hard time saying no to his brother.

"That ain't such a bad idea," Merle said when Daryl told him he was going to work on a local shelter. "We can scope out the area and see what people've got that's worth takin.'"

Daryl had managed to land a job on a crew that was building shelters all through the next town, and somehow Merle talked himself onto the same crew. They would be working with a handful of other men, building an underground shelter for four families who lived at the end of a long country road. A few days into the job, Daryl had met the Grimes family, a friendly cop named Rick, his wife Lori, and their son Carl. He prayed Merle wouldn't do anything stupid with a cop around. He'd also met the Johnsons and the Walkers, but the Peletiers hadn't come around yet. He knew they had a little girl and the guy was a used car salesman, but no one had even mentioned the wife.

"These are nice people, Merle," Daryl said one day when the two brothers were on a smoke break. "And that Grimes guy's a cop. I ain't doin' nothin' you've got planned."

Merle laughed. "Knew you'd pussy out on me like you always do. Fuck it, I ain't waitin' for no storms. These people are startin' to trust us already. Well, 'cept for those Peletiers that ain't come around yet. Wonder what's goin' on with them."

Daryl didn't have to wait long to solve the mystery of the Peletiers. As he headed to his truck one evening after a long hard day of work, he heard a woman's screams. He ran toward the sound, which led him straight into the Peletiers' yard. The screams stopped, and then the front door opened and slammed closed behind a large man who stomped past Daryl, then turned around to face him. "What the fuck do you want?" he drawled. Daryl wasn't sure what to say, so he shrugged and headed for his truck, hoping the man wouldn't push it. He sat in the driver's seat and watched Mr. Peletier drive off, then headed back to the Peletiers' porch.

He could hear the sobbing through the door. _I can't get involved_, he thought. But he had to make sure she was okay, at least. He took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door. The sobbing stopped and for a long moment it felt as though they were both holding their breath. Daryl knew he should walk away, but something was keeping him on that porch. He waited for what felt like forever until finally the door opened a bit.

"Yes?" she said with a slight smile, as if this were any other visit, as if she weren't standing there with a swollen, bleeding lip. She saw him staring at it and covered her mouth with her hand.

"You okay, ma'am? I . . . I thought I . . . I heard . . ." He babbled, wanting the porch to swallow him up.

"Mommy, who is it? Is Daddy gone?" A young girl, no more than eleven or twelve, appeared at the woman's side. She looked as if she had been crying too.

"Nobody, honey," Mrs. Peletier said, putting her arm around the girl. "One of the workers, I think. Did you need something? I'm Carol, by the way." She held out a trembling hand. She was trying to be strong for her daughter but Daryl could see that she was a mess of nerves.

"Daryl," he said, taking her small, cool hand in his. He wondered briefly if his rough calluses might hurt her and then realized how ridiculous that was. The woman's husband just beat her ass, and he was worried about a callus scratching her palm? He couldn't help it, though. She was so small, so delicate. "I didn't need nothin.' Sorry to bother you, ma'am." He nodded, looking her in the eye for the briefest moment, and gave the girl a small smile.

"We're fine here," Carol said firmly, starting to close the door. He nodded again and headed back to his truck.

Her face haunted him all night. She'd tried to pretend everything was okay, even with a bleeding mouth and tear stains on her cheeks, even knowing that he had probably just heard her screaming. Why would she protect that asshole if he was hurting her? Daryl knew he shouldn't get involved. It was none of his business. But something inside him couldn't let it go. Something about her had grabbed onto him and now he couldn't think of anything else. He had to see her again, had to make sure she was ok. Daryl woke up the following morning with her face still on his mind. He sighed, running a hand over his face. A storm was coming, all right, but it didn't have anything to do with rain and wind.


	2. Chapter 2: Carol

**Author's Note: **** Thanks for the reviews on my new story! It should be interesting doing an AU. I have to warn you that the buildup to the Caryl stuff will be slower than in Disappear, because in this story they've just met (Disappear started at the end of season two, after they already had a connection). I don't want to rush it, because I want it to be realistic. But I definitely want to show that they feel something immediately. Don't worry, there will eventually be lots of Caryl. **** By the way, obviously I don't own these characters! Please please please read and review! I want to hear from you guys! **

_**Carol**_

Carol woke up at 5:00am, as she always did, and gingerly removed herself from the bed to keep from waking Ed. He'd stumbled in long after midnight, presumably after a night drinking with the boys, and she'd pretended to be asleep so he would leave her alone. By now he'd probably forgotten all about hitting her last night. Normally Carol would've forgotten about it as well, because she was so used to him taking his anger and frustration out on her. Ed was miserable, and Carol had long ago stopped trying to make him happy. Now she just tried to stay under the radar and get him to notice her as little as possible. If he had clean clothes, food on the table, and a quiet house, sometimes he left her alone. It was the best she could hope for these days. A smack across the mouth wasn't that big a deal anymore, so last night was nothing unusual. At least not until _he_ showed up.

Carol was used to deflecting attention from her marriage and its problems. Life was so much easier if no one noticed the way Ed treated her. That Grimes couple had reached out to her a few times, clearly trying to show her that they would help if she needed her to, without actually telling her they knew what was happening. She was no fool. She could see the pitying look in their eyes. She didn't blame them for it; in fact, she appreciated their concern. But she wasn't going to open that can of worms. The only way she would escape from Ed was for one of them to die.

When that man had shown up at her door last night, she'd nearly ignored the knock. Normally that's what she would do, and whoever it was would walk away. Something made her open the door, though, and the sight of him had given her a little shock. He was filthy and sweaty from working, and she assumed he was one of the workers from the shelter. He didn't say otherwise. He didn't keep his eyes on her for very long, but she got a glimpse of how blue they were. The dirt couldn't conceal what a beautiful man he was, and Carol was actually surprised at herself for noticing. She'd looked down at his hands and noticed that they were big and strong, and a fleeting thought of his hands on her skin had gone through her mind.

Carol hadn't thought about a man in that way in many years. When she'd first met Ed, he was nice enough. He certainly hadn't swept her off her feet, but she didn't think she would ever do any better. He had a decent job at a used car lot and seemed to be interested in making a life together. She knew he was quick to anger, but she figured she could deal with that by ignoring it and keeping him happy. It didn't take long for the hitting to start. And since it started, Carol had given up on any kind of love or desire in her life. Her reaction to Daryl was a shock, as though a part of herself that had died long ago had been revived.

Carol knew she should leave well enough alone. She was a married woman, and not only that, she was married to a man who would kill her if she cheated on him. He'd probably kill the man as well, and who knows where Sophia would end up? But she wasn't actually planning to act on this budding desire. She just wanted to get another quick, harmless look at the man. While Sophia was at school and Ed was at work, Carol made up a pitcher of sweet tea and a batch of cranberry muffins. As she carried the pitcher and basket along with a stack of paper cups over to the work site, her nerves jumped. _What am I doing?_

"Hey there, little lady," a man drawled as she approached. He had stopped working to watch her walk toward them. "Check it out, baby brother, we got ourselves a visitor." The man next to him turned and Carol saw that it was Daryl. He flushed immediately and turned back around.

"I – I just thought you men might need something to eat and drink," Carol said, hating the way her voice trembled. "I'm Mrs. Peletier, um, Carol. I live in the yellow house out um. . .that way." She pointed vaguely in the direction of her house.

"Well, ain't that sweet," the older man said, eyeing her up and down. Something about him made Carol uncomfortable. He looked at her as if he might either hit her or swallow her whole. Had he called Daryl _baby brother_? "Daryl, we got a sweet one here."

Daryl mumbled something, and Merle cocked his head and then turned to him. "What'd you say?"

Daryl still didn't turn around. "I said leave her alone."

"What?" Merle's voice turned angry, and Carol saw something dangerous in his eyes. She knew how to recognize a bad temper. "I ain't done nothin' to this little lady."

Daryl finally turned around, looking at Carol for a quick moment with those blue eyes the color of a stormy sea. "Thank you for bringing the food." Then he walked away, with Merle following. Carol set the pitcher and basket down on the ground and turned back toward home with a lump in her throat. She felt like a fool. What did she think was going to happen? A romantic picnic? Even though she knew she would never act on her attraction to this man, she couldn't help wanting to know more about him. But he'd barely even looked at her. There had been something between them last night, or she had thought it was there, but she must have been wrong. He'd told his brother to leave her alone, which was nice, but maybe he was just a gentleman. There were plenty of men who didn't want women to be mistreated. Her neighbor Rick Grimes was one of them. Carol had often thought that Lori was lucky to have a husband like Rick, an honorable man. Daryl probably saw Carol as a helpless woman who needed to be protected from men like her husband and his brother. And that's what she was, after all. But she couldn't help wanting him to see her as something much more. Maybe she was losing her mind. Why was she having these thoughts about a man she didn't even know?


	3. Chapter 3: Daryl

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far! This one is moving a bit slowly, as I said before, because they're just now getting to know each other. I hope you'll be patient as I build up to the time when they're thrust into a situation together (trust me, it will happen soon!) and the whole Caryl thing develops. I promise fluff, I promise angst, and I promise smut. I can't promise that I'll update every day or two like I did with Disappear, however! Please read/review and I'll try to write the next chapter soon! (Disclaimer: I do not own these characters – I'm just borrowing them for fun!)**

"What the fuck was that about?" Merle thundered after the Peletier woman had turned and left. "You got somethin' goin' on with that mousy little woman?"

"I don't even know that woman," Daryl muttered.

"Why you think you need to protect her from old Merle?" A grin spread across Merle's face. "Must be somethin' goin' on in that empty head of yours. Ain't she the one married to that big ol' nasty fucker works over at the car lot near Wal-mart?"

Daryl's eyes shot up. "What do you know about him?"

Merle roared with laughter. "I knew it! There's somethin' you ain't tellin' me or you wouldn't give two shits about that fat fuck."

"Screw you, Merle." Daryl walked away, praying Merle wouldn't follow.

Why the hell had she come out here anyway? Not one peep from her all the time they'd been working on the shelter, and after last night she decides to make an appearance. Daryl shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the image of her standing there with that big basket and a pitcher that looked too heavy for her to carry. He'd had to stop himself from rushing over to help her. There was something about the way she looked at him that he just couldn't get out of his head.

He took a bite of one of the muffins, imagining her small hands stirring the batter. The muffin was delicious, of course. He'd almost hoped it would taste awful. He took a drink of the tea, sweet but not sickeningly so. He wondered if she would make it a habit, bringing them tea and food. Maybe Merle had scared her off. He knew he had to stop thinking about her, for a million reasons. Maybe she wouldn't come back, and the job would end without him having to see her again. That would be best.

Daryl knew the storms would start soon, but he hadn't started preparing. He was working hard getting this shelter ready for people he didn't even know, but he had no plans for what he would do when the storms hit. He was hoping the scientists were wrong, that the storms would blow over and this would be like any other hurricane season. Inconvenient, a little scary for the old people and those living in shacks and trailers, but easy enough to get through. Most people were buying up every battery and flashlight they could get their hands on. He didn't know anyone who didn't have a generator and plenty of gas stored up to fuel it. Daryl figured he would just take things as they came, as he always had. It had worked out so far.

Another week of work passed without incident. Merle even settled into his work, mostly leaving Daryl alone. They'd cleared out a rather large space underground, but the foundation for the shelter was nearly complete. It would have living quarters for the families, with a storage room for supplies, a room to house the generator, and even a bathroom. Daryl often wondered where the families were getting the money to pay for this shelter. Merle complained about how the government was kicking in a large percentage of the cost for most neighborhoods, so maybe that was how it worked. Daryl and Merle lived in a shack of a house out in the woods. They didn't have a neighborhood to speak of, and sometimes he thought no one even knew they existed back there.

When Carol Peletier came back to the work site, again carrying a basket and a pitcher, Daryl was relieved that Merle was off on a smoke break and nowhere in sight. He met her eyes for a moment, gave her a nod. "Ma'am."

She offered a tentative smile. "The shelter is really coming along. You guys must be working really hard out here."

"That's what they pay us for," he mumbled, staring at his feet.

An uncomfortable silence passed, and then she moved to set the basket down. He reached forward to take it from her, and his fingers brushed against her knuckles. He thought he heard a tiny gasp pass her lips, and he nearly dropped the basket when she transferred it to him. _What the fuck is wrong with me_? he thought. Her hand had felt so soft. . . He couldn't help looking at her fingers. She'd crouched down to flip open the cloth napkin in the basket. Her pinky looked crooked, and he instantly realized that her bastard husband had probably broken it.

"I – I hope you don't mind me bringing these things," she said, straightening back up and clasping her hands in front of her, wringing them. "I just thought I should do something for you guys out here working so hard all day. I – Ed doesn't – "

"He doesn't know?"

She looked up, meeting his eyes. She bit her lip and shook her head. "He wouldn't want me coming out here. Can you – do you think you can -?"

"I ain't gonna tell him nothin.'"

"And your brother?" Her eyes widened.

"Merle's an asshole, but I don't think he'd even bother to talk to your husband, ma'am." Daryl bit his lip too, increasingly uncomfortable with the direction their conversation was headed. It felt too intimate suddenly. He didn't want to know what her husband would do if he knew Carol was standing here talking to him. He didn't want to know what made him break that finger, or bust her lip last week when Daryl had stepped onto her porch. He kept trying to tell himself that he didn't want to know, but a part of him wanted to know everything.

"We appreciate it, ma'am," he said, hoping this would signal an end to the conversation.

"Oh, please don't call me ma'am," she said with a little giggle. Her laugh was beautiful, and he knew he wouldn't be happy until he could hear it again. "Please, just call me Carol."

He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip again, and waited until she turned to leave again. "Carol," he whispered to her back when she'd gone too far to hear her.

That night he dreamed about holding that soft hand and bringing her crooked pinky up to his lips. He dreamed about running his fingertips over her cropped hair and seeing if it was as soft as it looked. He dreamed about hearing her laugh, about laughing with her. And he woke up feeling like a fool.


	4. Chapter 4: Carol

**A/N:**** Thanks for the encouragement on this new story! It's definitely slow going and I'm not finding as much time to write these days, but the Caryl is coming, I promise! Please review and let me know what you think about this chapter too! (And once again, I own NOTHING).**

The first storm hit before the shelter was completed, just as they had all feared. Though the workers were on schedule and everything was being done as quickly as possible, the work had not begun early enough. The structure itself was complete, but the plumbing, the supplies, and several other details were not finished. As far as Carol knew, the shelter was practically empty. She hadn't been back for a week or so, because Ed had been sick with the flu and hadn't left the house, so neither could she. Ed was even more of an asshole when he was sick, but the fact that he didn't have the strength to rough her up was at least some consolation. When he was sick, he just hurt her with his words. She was used to that, and she'd almost reached the point where she didn't hear them anymore. Almost.

The problem was that Sophia heard them. Sophia, her sweet angel of a girl, who heard and saw everything. Sophia, who had started out her life as a giggling, joyful child and had been worn down over the years to a weak, frightened girl who barely spoke and never laughed. The sadness in Sophia's eyes was like a constant accusation. Carol knew it was her fault that Sophia had to endure this life. Sure, Ed was the one using his fists, but Carol was allowing it, and in turn she was allowing Sophia to live in this misery with her. Every time Ed hit her or yelled at her, Carol imagined the whole scene from Sophia's view. In one sense, it helped Carol, because it enabled her to step out of her own body while she was being hurt. But imagining Sophia's thoughts was worse, really. Carol didn't know what it was like to grow up watching your father hurt your mother, but she was afraid to talk to Sophia about it. So they gave each other looks, frightened looks that said _Oh God what's next _and sad looks that said nothing at all because there was simply nothing left to say.

Because Sophia was a timid, frightened girl anyway, the impending storms terrified her. At her school, they ran storm drills nearly every day, with confused children following scared teachers and administrators through a process that no one actually believed would make much difference if the meteorologists' predictions were correct. Carol thought it was silly to believe anyone could truly prepare for what was coming. You had to take things as they came. She had always believed that, and her life had proved it to be true. How, for example, could she have ever prepared for the kind of marriage she'd ended up in? She'd been like every other little girl, giggling with friends about boys in her class, drawing pictures of her dream wedding dress, and never imagining for a moment that the father of her child would be a man like Ed. There had been signs, of course – a quick temper, a propensity for namecalling in arguments – but the real abuse hadn't begun right away. Carol wondered every day if there was a time when she would've broken away, when the warning signs would've been just enough to send her packing. She couldn't regret staying with Ed, really, because otherwise there would be no Sophia, but of course she wished things were different. In her lowest moments, she thought maybe it would've been better if Sophia had never been born. But it was hard for her to even finish the thought inside her mind.

The storm hit on a Tuesday evening. Weather forecasts had indicated that a storm was coming, but that it would be a relatively minor one. Power outages, certainly, and maybe some damaging wind, but nothing like the storms that were on their way in the coming months. But the storm took everyone by surprise when it hit suddenly and fiercely, rolling through in a matter of moments and wreaking havoc wherever it touched down. Ed, Carol, and Sophia ran to the shelter as soon as they realized how bad it was, and they discovered that the Grimes and the Walkers were already there.

"The Johnsons aren't going to use the shelter," Lori said when the Peletiers climbed down into the shelter. "They've got family up north where it's supposed to be safer. They went to stay with them a few days ago."

"Is it really safer up north?" Carol asked. "I thought the storms were hitting everywhere."

"They are," Rick said, "but they're hitting the mid-Atlantic first and then working their way up, so they might weaken before they hit the northern states."

"Then why aren't we on our way up there too?" Lori asked, her eyes wide. Carol thought she saw Rick roll his eyes a bit and she wondered if the Grimes marriage wasn't as perfect as she'd always thought it seemed.

"Come on in and get settled, Carol, Ed," Rick said, leading them into the shelter. "We'll be here for the night at least, and then we'll check out how things look tomorrow. I hope you don't mind, I asked a couple of the workers if they wanted to stay the night."

The feeling that shot through Carol's chest was almost electric. _Daryl here? In the shelter? Maybe it's another worker. _But she knew it was probably Daryl and his brother, because they were always on the job and other workers rotated in and out. Rick led the Peletiers deeper inside the shelter, which was dimly lit with candles and lanterns since the generator wasn't fully hooked up. Carol kept her eyes straight ahead, hoping she could keep from reacting too strongly when she saw Daryl. She could feel Ed's presence looming behind her. She couldn't let him see that Daryl made her nervous. Carol had never reacted to another man before in front of Ed, but he'd accused her of it many times. If he could see inside her head when she was thinking of Daryl, he'd probably kill them both on the spot.

In the center of the shelter, Carol's eyes adjusted to the dim light enough to see that there were five doors. Rick indicated the largest door. "That's where the supplies are, though there's not a lot in there yet. In the back of that room is where we'll control the generator, and you'll be happy to know there's a little toilet hooked up already. There's a room for each of us to sleep in." He opened one of the doors. "You can see there's just enough room to lie down and you can't move around too much. But you'll be safe, right?"

Carol nodded nervously. Behind her, she heard Ed grunt. "Huh. This is what we're payin' for? Ain't no room to breathe in here."

"Ed, the shelter is supposed to be temporary, and this is the best we could afford with the government's allowance." Carol could see that Rick was making an effort to placate Ed, and she appreciated it, but she knew that Ed would find some way to take out his frustrations in this small space on her.

"The Walkers are already settled in there," Rick said, pointing to one of the doors. "Their son is away at college, so it's just Frank and Sylvia. And we've put the Dixon brothers in this room here, but they're working on the generator, trying to see if we can get some power in case this storm lasts longer than the forecasters are saying."

Carl and Sophia settled in a corner with a handheld, battery-operated video game he'd brought, and Carol was pleased to see a little smile on her daughter's face. She and Carl had played together a few times when they were younger but Sophia was so shy that she'd barely spoken to him in years. In this tiny space, however, they only had each other. Carol was grateful that Carl would keep Sophia out of Ed's hair, since he was already annoyed. Carol spent the rest of the evening chatting with Lori and Rick while Ed glowered in the corner. She nervously waited for Daryl to appear, but he and his brother stayed in the supply room.

Luckily, Ed fell asleep quickly that night. His bulk took up almost the entire cot, so Carol took her tiny pillow and extra blanket, signaled to Sophia, and went into the main area to sleep. She curled up with her daughter on the floor and tried not to think about the damage the winds and hail might be doing to their home. They'd avoided the topic of the storm all evening, and Carol knew they were all frightened about what was happening aboveground, and grateful for this safe space. Carol tried not to think about how closed in they were, since she was slightly claustrophobic, and finally she drifted into a light sleep.

She was awakened by something hitting her leg. "Oh, sorry," she heard in a gruff whisper. She looked up but the room was pitch black. "Didn't know anybody was out here."

"It's ok," she whispered. _Was it him? _It sounded like him but she wasn't sure. She had to know. "Is that you, Rick?" she asked, knowing it wasn't Rick but desperately wanting to be sure it was Daryl.

"Nah, it's . . . it's Daryl, ma'am. Me and my brother's stayin' in that extra room."

Carol froze, then took a deep breath. Where was he? She couldn't tell by his whisper if he was still close to her, but the shelter was so small that he couldn't be far. "I see," she whispered. "Is there room for both of you in there?"

Daryl chuckled a little. "No ma'am, not really. He's sprawled all out on that cot and I don't much like sleepin' next to a man anyway." He paused, and she could hear his sharp intake of breath. "I mean, I'm not sayin' –"

"It's ok," she whispered, saving him from his embarrassment. Of course he'd rather sleep next to a woman. He'd probably had hundreds of women, looking the way he did.

"I was headin' to the supply room to sleep in there," he said. "Sorry I kicked ya."

"Don't worry about it. Good night." Carol didn't want to say good night to him. She wanted to think of a way to keep him talking, because these shared whispers in the dark were more important to her than any of the thousand conversations she'd had with Ed. "Will you be able to get the generator working?"

"I hope, ma'am." She heard a slight thump and assumed he must have leaned against the wall.

"Please call me Carol," she whispered, smiling.

"Sorry, m—uh, Carol," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice as well.

"You think we'll be ok under here, Daryl?"

She heard another thump and then a loud sigh came from lower, closer. "I think so, yeah," he said. She could tell he had sat down across from where she was lying. Suddenly she felt something against her leg, and then he said "Oh, I'm sorry" and moved away. It must have been his leg stretched out near her. Her heart started racing and she was afraid to move. She kept her arms wrapped around Sophia, who had started whimpering slightly in her sleep.

"Your little girl scared of the storms?" Daryl asked.

"She's afraid of everything," Carol said.

"Are you?" he asked after a long pause.

"Sometimes," she said honestly. "Sometimes everything scares me, and sometimes I think nothing else can happen to me that hasn't already happened. I don't want the storms to damage everything, to kill anybody, but I don't know if they're going to make that much difference to me."

Daryl didn't respond, and Carol felt her skin flush with embarrassment. She'd said too much. What was she talking about? He didn't want to know all that stuff. "I—I'm sorry," she stammered.

"No," he whispered. "I know what you mean."

At that moment one of the doors opened and Carol nearly jumped out of her skin. As soon as she heard the door opening her body reacted as though it were Ed catching her doing something wrong. She hoped Daryl would stay silent and out of Ed's way, but then she heard a woman's voice.

"Carol, are you out here?" It was Lori. "I need to turn on my flashlight to make it to the bathroom."

Carol heard a shuffle and the closing of another door, and when Lori shined her flashlight around the small space, Daryl was gone.


	5. Chapter 5: Daryl

**A/N:**** I'm finally back to this story! I've been out of town for a few weeks and couldn't write, so I hope to get back on track now. I hope some of you haven't forgotten about this little story and will still read and review!**

Daryl left the shelter before the sun came up. He had no idea what time it was, or even if it was daylight, because under the ground it was always completely dark. He knew, however, that he wanted to get out of that closed-in space before all those folks started waking up and rethinking letting him stay in the first place. He pushed the hatch open and nervously looked around when the sunlight streamed in. A bright shaft of light shone directly into the shelter and touched Carol's face. Her nose wrinkled a bit, but she didn't open her eyes. He took advantage of the moment to study her without having to look away in embarrassment.

Daryl had never thought about beauty before. He'd been attracted to women, yes, but he'd never been picky. He'd been so shy around them that if one of them made a move he felt like he had no choice but to accept. He knew he'd never be bold enough to start something on his own, so whether or not he found a woman beautiful was kind of irrelevant. But now, in his early forties, he finally knew what beauty looked like to him. Beauty was small, and delicate, with soft lips that looked like they would taste like ripe fruit and eyes he could drown in. Beauty was a long, thin neck and graceful limbs, small soft hands and a laugh like music. He shook his head. If Merle could hear the stuff in his head right now, he'd beat his ass. Daryl tore his eyes away from Carol's face and headed up the ladder and out into the storm-ravaged world.

He stood beside the shelter door, too stunned to move. All around him were signs of destruction, the remnants of civilization. Cars were overturned, houses flattened. Tree limbs crisscrossed the landscape, and small fires littered the scene. Daryl headed toward the Peletiers' house, but before he'd gone very far he heard the shelter hatch close behind him. "Daryl?"

He turned to see Carol blinking in the sunlight. "Go back down," he said. "I don't know when the storm will start back up." He didn't want her to see the destruction because he couldn't imagine her reaction. What if her house was flattened too?

"Oh my god," she whispered, looking around. "How could all this happen in one night?"

He didn't answer, because there was no answer. It had happened, and no one could do anything about it. They couldn't stop the next storm either, and if the meteorologists were right, the storms would keep coming until there was nothing left.

"Can we—" Carol began. She stepped toward him. "Can we go see what's left of my house?" She choked back a sob. He nodded, and they walked together silently.

On the way, they saw that nearly all the trees and electrical wires had come down. The storm had barely left anything standing. When they reached where Carol's house had been, Carol's knees buckled. Daryl reached out to support her so she wouldn't fall, and she fell into his arms, sobbing. The house was gone. In its place were piles of rubble and boards, the Peletiers' belongings scattered about. A heavy tree had fallen on the house. Carol buried her face in Daryl's chest, her hands gripping his shirt. He could feel the wetness of her tears soaking through his shirt. His strong arms tightened their hold on her and he rested his face gently against the top of her head. He wanted to say something to her, something that would comfort her, but he had no idea what to say. She had lost everything. She and her daughter had no home and had nothing left. The shack Daryl had lived in was probably flattened the first moment the wind picked up, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that. That place hadn't been a home anyway. Daryl hadn't had anything like a home in a very long time. But as he breathed in Carol's scent and felt the sweetness of her body so close to his, he started to wonder if maybe home had nothing to do with a place anyway. This woman in his arms felt more right than anything had in a long time.

"Get your hands off her!" Ed's voice came first, and then before they could react, his hands were on them, wrenching them apart and pushing Carol roughly to the ground.

"She's upset, I was just—" Daryl started, but Ed wasn't even paying attention to him anymore. He was glaring down at his wife, fury all over his face, his fists balled at his side.

"You fuckin' whore!" he yelled, then he spit at Carol. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and started to get up from the ground. Ed drew his leg back and kicked her in the side. She made a horrible sound, half cough and half sob, and curled into a ball to protect herself. Without thinking, Daryl rushed toward Ed and pushed him hard enough to make him fall back onto the ground. He held him down with one knee while punching him repeatedly in the face, the blows falling hard and fast. Daryl had a vague sense that he could hear Carol crying out for him to stop, but he couldn't stop. His fist kept rising and falling, rising and falling, until Ed's eyes were closed and he lay completely still beneath Daryl.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Daryl heard a voice behind him and shook his head to clear it. He turned to see the police officer from the shelter running toward them. "Get off that man right now!" Grimes shouted sternly. Daryl stood up and backed away slowly, raising his hands as though he were under arrest.

"What happened here?" Rick asked, helping Carol to her feet and then dropping to his knees next to Ed. He opened his eyes and peered into them, then listened to his chest. "He's breathing, but you definitely knocked him out."

Between sobs, Carol said, "He was . . . Daryl was protecting me, Rick. He got carried away, but—"

"Is this true?" Rick looked from Carol to Daryl, and Daryl finally found his voice.

"He – he kicked her," he muttered. "I didn't mean to . . . I just didn't want him to hurt her anymore." Daryl was suddenly aware of Carol's eyes on him. She was still crying, but silently now, the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispered, before turning again to Rick, her eyes reluctantly leaving Daryl's. "Is he going to be ok?" she asked.

"He'll be hurting, and he'll be mad, but he'll wake up," said Rick. "He could use a doctor, so I'll see if I can contact somebody but from the looks of things it might be tough. When I can get him down in the shelter we'll doctor him the best we can. You should head back to the shelter in case the next storm is on its way. I won't leave his side until he wakes up, ma'am." Rick nodded to Carol and she gave him a smile, then headed for the shelter without looking back. Daryl watched her walk away and wondered if he would see her again. He was sure Rick would tell him to leave, and he couldn't say he blamed him. If Daryl were around when Ed woke up, there would be nothing but trouble.

"You know you can't stay, right?" Rick asked quietly, and Daryl nodded, biting his lip.

"I ain't gonna arrest you or anything," Rick continued. "I think we might be past all that." He gestured at the barren world around them. "But after this, there ain't no way you and Ed can be in that shelter together. You and your brother might ought to clear out."

Daryl nodded again. "I'll go get him," he said, heading toward the shelter.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way," Rick called after him, and Daryl raised a hand in acknowledgment without turning around. All he could think about was having another moment with Carol in the shelter before Ed woke up. He could still feel what it was like to hold her in his arms, and he wanted nothing more than to have that feeling again.

**A/N:**** Ok, I kind of always wanted Daryl to be the one to beat Ed up the way Shane did in season one. I think when Shane did it, it was foreshadowing for how dark Shane would eventually become. I don't think Daryl would ever be that dark, obviously, but I still like having him beat Ed's ass. Haha!**


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